The Rain Chronicle

Light of beauty

Strike from an angry god’ shrine

Glaring the clouds alluring light over the earth

Drums of uncertainty

Murmurs of the morning sunshine

Sounding thunder’s berating wrath

Winds of calmness

Breath of a goddess

Twirling the earth’s tranquil gust cruel

Calls forth the dawn of my rain chronicle

Like the widow of Mitchika torn by the tides of country

Peering from her window to see what is left of her future

I watched the puissant sun draped by darkness

All for the war of one chair adorn in the blood of fellow comrades

I saw the innocuous beasts of country flee their future

Yes! She soared yonder, her voice, lurid and my eyes were witness

People fled the streets running over tables

The torpid women under the trees bunged their old wives’ fables

Mothers’ beckon their bowel fruits to stay in

For the day portends to be terrifying

I watched the soil spurn to drink of the rain watersul

At the latter end of the day saw the waters fill the drainage in the quarters

I had prayed and hoped for this day for ages

In my memory archives lay forever that day’s images

I was upright and conscientiously watching all the deeds unfurl

My farm was neither watered nor was my river full

It all seem the storm never heard my cries but hid my tears

From my shuteye an insalubrious voice calls me out so dear

Oh! The whirlwind has got the young trees dancing to it cruel rhythm

But the strikes of her drops made the pale green tinge

Thanks for reading expect more

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